The peter Venkman Story
by Janine 555 - SPOOK
Summary: It's not good ... I swear I'll do better!


The Peter Venkman story.

"Peter!"

"What?" called seven year old Peter Venkman.

"You'll be late!!!"

"Yes, Mom!" Peter finished tying his shoes and ran downstairs.

He was on his way to his first day at Harrison Elementary School in Manhatten.

He had just moved to New York that summer.

"When will dad be home?" asked Peter excitedly.

"Well ... hon, he's really busy in Switzerland and -"

"You don't know, do you?" Peter looked heart broken.

"No ... sweetie, I'm sorry." Mrs Venkman looked at her son apologetically.

"I gotta go!" said Peter, he turned to leave.

"Be careful!" warned his mother "And have fun!!

As Peter cautiously climbed aboard the school bus, he smiled at the driver, then began to look for a seat.

He spotted one about half way up the aisle.

Peter struggled up the aisle, and dropped almost wearily into the seat, dropping his bag at his feet.

He studied the kid he was sitting next to.

To Peter, the boy looked about two or three years older than him, and compared to his slight build and dark looks the boy was a complete contrast. He was well built, and he has longish, styled blond hair and narrow blue eyes.

"Hi?" tried Peter, shyly.

"Hmmpph ..." grunted the kid, disinterested.

This was not likely to be a good day.

Half way through the day, and nothing else bad had happened.

Of course, nothing good had either.

Peter's teacher was in her mid forties, her name was Ms. Thomas.

There was nothing interesting about her, the class was demure, and she rarely had to discipline anyone.

"Alright, class!" she called their attention away from the morning art project they were all working on.

"It's almost lunch time, line up and wash your hands."

Peter dropped his crayons, and joined the rest of the class in washing the melted wax off his fingers.

"Okay, kids!" declared Ms. Thomas as the bell rang "Go get lunch!"

A few kids even cheered as they all poured out of the classroom.

Peter walked across the playground, by himself, with his bag.

He stopped as he reached some trees, and he sat down in the shade.

He pulled his lunch out of the bag.

Tuna and corn ... on a sandwich. God willing he'd survive this.

"Hey."

The blond kid.

"Hi ..." peter looked up at the boy warily.

"I think you owe me some lunch, after all, you had the pleasure of sitting next to me this moring," leered the kid.

"Take it." whispered Peter, holding out his poinsonous sandwiches to the boy.

"I think we have an agreement. From now on, your lunch is mine, kid."

Peter nodded demurely.

The kid turned on his heel and left.

"Why'd you let him do that?" demanded someone from somewhere.

"Huh?" Peter scanned the playground in confusion.

A young girl, from his class, Peter recognized, was hanging by her knees from the tree.

"I hate tuna and corn sandwiches." explained Peter.

"Me too." the girl grinned.

She was small, ever smaller than Peter, and she had, short, thick red hair, which was so short that underneath it was shaven in. Infact, if it wasn't longer at the fron and with a huge braid of threads and beads hanging from the front left of it, she might look like a boy. She was wearing a pair of battered dungarees and a blue T-shirt, with a pair of black boots.

"My name's Cara!" she expertly swung up into the tree, then jumped down, landing neatly on her feet.

"I'm Peter ... I'm new."

"I noticed." said Cara "Ms. Thomas is sooo dull, I bet she makes you stand up infront of the class and introduce yourself and ask for a volunteer guide. Then she'll let you pick if there's more than one."

"Will you volunteer?"

"Hmmmm ..." Cara seemed to be deep in thought "Okay."

"Great!" said Peter.

"You want some lunch? I got chocolate spread sandwiches!"

"Wow!!"

Sure enough, Ms. Thomas DID make Peter stand up infront of the class, and Cara volunteered, just like she promised.

Peter moved his seat away from Billy Brankum and next to Cara Walker.

Finally, this day was picking up.

FIVE YEARS LATER:

"Hi Cara!!!" said the now twelve year old Peter "Wanna go to Central park?"

"Sure," said Cara.

Peter and Cara met in Central Park almost every day, the pair had become best friends since that day in elementary school.

"Hey Cara..." said Peter.

"Hey Peter... whaddaya wanna do?" Cara's thick red hair had grown to shoulder length.

"I dunno ..." Peter shifted uncomfortably "Hey ... Cara?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you ...uh ...."

"What?" asked Cara impatiently.

"How do you ... get to first base?"

"What?"

"How do you get to first base?"

"You want me to teach you?"

"Can you?"

"Yes ..." said Cara, she grabbed his hand "C'mon!!!"

She led him to a secluded area of the park, and told him to sit down.

Peter did so, still wondering what was going on.

"Close you eyes."

"Why?"

"Because."

Peter closed his eyes.

Cara kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

Peter was shocked ... then he started to enjoy the experience.

Cara pulled away.

"How'd you learn that?!!!" demanded Peter.

"I have a fifteen year old sister and a seventeen year old brother, how do you think?" replied Cara.

Peter grinned.

"Let's go to the playground." suggested Cara "We can grab a basket ball from my house on the way."

"Okay!"

And that was it.

ON TO HIGH SCHOOL

Peter and Cara continued as best friends, until they went to high school.

Peter had been at high school a week. He was not in one class with Cara.

Now sixteen, he had grown up with Cara, hell, she'd taught him how to kiss and everything!

In Maths, Peter discovered his main weakness.

He was having real trouble with this Trigonometry thing ... Sin of 40 degrees ... what?

Peter woke up from his semi-dream state.

Egon Spengler, a nerd he sat next to in maths, was answering a question.

Peter relaxed a little.

"Mr. Venkman?"

Uh-oh.

"Yes?" Peter heard himself saying.

"Can you answer the question?"

"The answer, is no." said Peter with a smile.

"Peter ..." warned Mr. Jones in a low voice.

"Yes?"

The class began toi giggle a little.

"What is the answer to the Trig problem?"

Peter squinted at the board.

A triangle ... with an angle, and Sin, Tan and Cos written below it, and "x" written on one of the sides, and 9 cm written against the other.

"It's modern art." said Peter.

The class began to laugh more.

"Mr. Venkman, you have detention." growled the teacher "Egon?"

"Well..." began Egon.

Peter sighed.

In detention that afternoon, Peter met two people.

The first, was Cara.

"Hey!" he whispered to her "What'd you do?"

Cara smiled "I tld the teacher he was bent."

Peter grinned "Why?"

"I dunno ..."

"I was a complete Wise ass in math ..."

Cara smiled.

The teacher in charge banged a ruler on his desk "NO talking!" he said strictly.

"Hi ..." said the boy sitting on the opposite side of Cara.

"Hi." returned Cara.

"Hey, man." said Peter, cooly swinging back on his chair.

"I'm Ray... My name's Ray Stantz ..." said the boy, he was obviously pretty shy.

"I'm Cara, this is -"

Crash.

"That was Peter." finished Cara as she looked at her fallen friend.

"Are you alright, Mr. Venkman?"

"Yes, sir." groaned Peter, slowly getting up, lifting his chair with him.

As he sat down he said "Hi, Ray."

Two years later, they graduated.

Cara went off to a college in Michigan, she and Peter kept in touch for a few months, then they both just drifted apart ...

Ray and Peter went to the same college.

On his first day, Peter discovered something awful.

"Aw, man!" he declared as he entered his room.

"Is something wrong?" asked Egon Spengler, his roomate.

"Not at all." lied Peter.

A week later, Peter, Egon and Ray were a team ... of pranksters.

In the dead of night, they planted bombs concocted by Egon in the girls dorm bathrooms.

This went down well with everyone except the teachers, the dean and the girls.

This carried on through college, until they finally graduated. Suprisingly, with PhDs.

Now what?

They decided to band together and do research into the paranormal ... until one day, they investigated a haunted library ...

~FIN~

Pretty crap, I know, but it'd my first Ghostbusters fan fic and i intend to use that as my excuse


End file.
